


The things I never told you

by SpiltWords



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Depression, Drug Use, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Mentions of Abusive Relationship, Mentions of Suicide, Past Relationships, enjolras/eponine - Freeform, mentions of self harm, minor Montparnasse/Eponine, trigger warnings apply
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:22:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5039101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiltWords/pseuds/SpiltWords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many things Eponine never got to tell Enjolras about her life and these are just a few of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The things I never told you

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: Mentions of self harm, drug use, suicide and abusive relationships.

 

 **I.** _When I was five, I was happy._

 

At the age of five, she was the happiest girl in the whole of Paris.

At the age of five Eponine thought the world was a kind place where there was no evil. Nothing could harm young Eponine Thenardier with her large brown eyes and her little doll. In her world the sun was always shining and the children always laughing.

She’s five years old and nothing can bring her down. She’s the happiest girl in the world and she tells everyone that she sees. She’s five years old and although she only has a handful of friends, that doesn’t stop her.

She’s climbed every tree and fished every newt out of the pond. She’s five years old and she’s already promised to show her sister all of her favourite places. She can’t wait for Azelma to grow up so they can be best friends. She’s already whispered her deepest secret into the babies ear.

She’s five years old and when she grows up, she’s going to be a nurse because she wants to make everyone as happy as she is.

No, Eponine Thenardier was a happy child.

At the age of five, nothing could bring her down.

 

* * *

  **II.** _When I was ten I learned what it was to be alone._

 

At the age of ten, she left everything behind.

Eponines ten when her Dad announces that they’re moving. She’s hurriedly shoving her ten years of life into one single bag and it wont all fit. She doesn’t know where they’re going but it’s going to be an adventure.

She’s ten years old and she’s never left their village, but when they arrive in the city she swears she’ll never go back. Her adventure starts when they find their new home, huddled under a bridge. It’s new and it’s exciting, she writes stories about it in her sketch book that she saved.

She imagines elaborate stories to entertain not only herself but her sister as well. By now they have a little brother, he’s only a year old and he’s hungry and cold. They pretend his cries are the roars of a dragon and their Dads shouting is the voice of the troll that lives on the other side of the bridge.

She chases her sister and hides behind the rocks. They shout and they laugh and it’s all so exciting.

She’s still ten but it’s almost her birthday when they finally have a house. The winter was cold and Azelma had gotten sick. They didn’t play anymore but the troll kept shouting and the dragon still roars.

She shares a bed with her sister, and her brother too. It’s more of a mattress on the floor but it’s more than they had under the bridge.

They get a letter through the post one morning and Eponine is sent to school. It’s not like the school in their village. This school has so many students she can’t remember them all but at least they’ll be more kids to play with.

She’s ten years old and no one wants to play with the girl who lived under the bridge. She’s ten years old and she’s the new kid that no one sits next to.

She’s ten years old and no one wants to be her friend.

 

* * *

  **III.** _When I was thirteen, I had my first hit._

 

At the age of thirteen, Eponine was pulled into the darkness.

She’s thirteen and sat on the park bench, watching the other girls talking whilst the boys play football. She’s thirteen and she has no friends. No one wants to be friends with the weird girl who sits at the back of the class and whose clothes are always dirty.

Eponine doesn’t mind, or at least that’s what she tells herself. She’s sat on the bench all alone when Montparnasse slinks towards her and wraps his arm around her shoulder. He’s three years older and he smells of whiskey and cigarettes. She doesn’t mind.

Some of the girls have noticed. She hears them giggling as they whisper to one another. He hears them too but neither say anything. He’s rough and wrapped in leather, he’s walking sin and everyone knows it. Eponine knows it and she loves his attention.

She thirteen when he takes her hand and leads her through the park and takes her some place new. They’re sat in an empty apartment, Eponine doesn’t ask him how he can afford this place. They’re sat on the dirty mattress in the middle of the room when he presses the blunt to her lips and she obediently inhales.

She’s thirteen when she gets her first hit. It’s the first of many.

 

* * *

  **IV.** _When I was sixteen you became my wings_.

 

At sixteen the world crashes around her but he’s the one to catch her.

She’s sixteen and she’s so alone. Everything she once knew, the happiness that she once felt, it’s all gone. A distant memory she will never see again.

She’s stood on the edge of the bridge, it’s the middle of winter and she wishes it could be summer but that would be too simple, too good for her. She must have done something bad in her last life because this life hates her. This life is out to get her and she’s going to let it win.

Her head is full of sorrow and misery. She still smells of cheap vodka and weed, and his hands are still crawling across her skin, leaving dirt in their path which no one else can see.

If they split her head open now, darkness would ooze out, choking everything in its sight. She can feel it in her head, suffocating her brain, pressing against her skull, threatening to escape. It’s weeping out of her ears, out of her eyes and mouth. It’s crawled it’s way down her throat and wrapped itself around her heart. It’s controlling her now. It’s threatening to pull her down and she can’t fight it any longer.

She’s sixteen when she’s about to jump. She’s about to learn how to fly and she hopes her wings will work because the water below her is icy and cold, ready to pull her under.

She’s sixteen and she’s lifting her foot, she’s leaning over the edge and this is it. She’s about to go. She’s sixteen and she squeezes her eyes shut, she takes one last sharp breath, it’s so cold it hurts her throat and it’s fitting that her last breath would hurt, just like everything else in her life.

She’s sixteen and she’s not sure if she’s ready to die just yet. She’s sixteen and there’s so much more she has to do. She’s sixteen and she’s dropped out of school. She’s sixteen and she’s had her first drink. She’s sixteen and she’s slept with at least four guys. She’s sixteen and she’s a waste of space. She’s sixteen and she’s toxin to everyone around her. She’s sixteen and this it. She’s sixteen and she can’t go on. She’s sixteen and that’s all she is.

She’s just sixteen.

And she’s still sixteen when she feels strong hands around her waist. She’s kicking and fighting, she’s going to fall and she’s panicking. She’s flying through the air but there’s someone holding her still. Her feet are hitting the ground and then suddenly the ground is a lot closer than she realised and she’s on the floor with her knees against her chest.

She’s sixteen the first time he saves her, and she’s sure he must be an angel.

 

* * *

  **V.** _At seventeen you held me during the night._

 

When she was seventeen he took pity on her during the cold nights.

At seventeen she’s spent more nights sleeping on the streets than she has in a bed. She knows all the best spots, the alleys where she wont be disturbed and the doorways that will shelter her. She knows where to go so she wont ever be found, but she also knows where to go to feel comfort.

It’s been raining when she turns up on his doorstep and although she wont admit it, he can see the bruise already blossoming across her cheek bone from where she was hit. He lets her in without a word and she’s thankful that he doesn’t have to hear her voice break.

She sits down on the sofa whilst he makes her a cup of tea, and they’ve done this so many countless times before it’s almost like a dance they already know.

She doesn’t drink from the cup but instead uses it to warm her hands whilst he searches for some dry clothes that she can wear. She changes in the bathroom, leaving her clothes on the radiator because when she returns to him in the morning, she knows she shouldn’t be wearing another guys clothes.

It’s almost two in the morning before she’s calmed down enough to finally sleep and her eyes are already closed before he can suggest she takes the bed.

He wraps the blanket around her, wishing her could protect her from the world.

 

He wakes to the sound of screaming and he runs to see if she’s alright. He knows there’s nothing there to hurt her, but she’s still screaming underneath the blanket.

She’s running through the forest, branches grabbing at her like deformed, twisted hands. They’re snagging at her hair, tugging at her clothes…. They’re holding her back and she can’t run any further. Her legs are moving but the ground isn’t.

His hands are around her throat, his breath is suffocating her and he’s done so much worse so many times before but it feels so real. Her heart is pounding and she’s screaming out for help but no one comes. No one ever comes.

Until he wraps her arms around her and cradles her against his chest.

When she finally wakes up she’s crying, heavy ugly sobs that she can’t hold back. He doesn’t care. He strokes his hair and rocks her until she calms down. She’s never felt comfort like this before. No one has touched her so gently since before she was a child.

They don’t go back to sleep that night. He knows she’s scared, and so does she but she tells him that sleeping now is pointless anyway because the sun is already rising and he simply agrees.

He holds her close and listens to her as she tells him about herself. He’s known her for almost a year but he realises only now that he knew so little.

His heart breaks as she tells him about how she lived under a bridge for almost a year, and he fights back the venomous words that threaten to slip out of his mouth when she tells him about how her parents used to hit her and how they abandoned her brother when he was barely three years old.

When she leaves he sees for the first time the scars that cover her back as she bends down to tie her shoelace.

She’s seventeen and she doesn’t know it yet, but he’s already promised the universe that he’ll protect her forever.

* * *

  **VI.** _At eighteen you showed me how to live._

 

She’s only eighteen when she experiences her first heartbreak.

It’s the middle of summer and for once it’s not raining when she turns up on his doorstep. He knows there’s something wrong from the way she’s smiling and how her breath smells like vodka.

He lets her in and watches as she skips around his apartment, little bits of her breaking away as she talks as if nothing is wrong. He decides he’ll hold up this façade for as long as she does.

It’s been almost a week and they’re watching an old movie on the television when she finally breaks. He’s not sure where it comes from because the movie is about cowboys and as far as he knows Montparnasse is not a cowboy but the floodgates open anyway and he’s pulling her into his arms.

At eighteen she’s wrapped up tightly in his arms whilst she tells him about the argument. She tells him how she caught him first with another girl, and how he promised it was a mistake and it would never happen again and then a week later it happened again but only this time he blamed her.

She tells him he told her it was her fault because she wasn’t enough. It was her fault because she always pushed him away and that she could never do anything right. It was her fault because she was just a dumb slut. She tells him everything about the five years she spent with this man.

It’s the first time Enjolras realises the full extent of the suffering that she had endured. He remembers the first time she turned up on his doorstep covered in bruises and how he’d told her he wouldn’t let her return to that man, but she had anyway.

She hadn’t spoken to him for almost a month when he called Montparnasse a dick and when she finally did speak to him again she told him to stay out of her relationship.

Every time she’d turned up, he’d gently tried to prod her in the right direction but the very next morning she’d return to the man’s side as if nothing had happened.

She’s eighteen now, and he’s twenty. He hates himself for not picking up all of the signs. He hates himself for not taking her away from the man that told her he loved her, but destroyed what remained of her.

 

She’s eighteen when Enjolras takes her to the zoo for the first time and he watches as her face lights up each time they reach a new enclosure. She laughs as she watches the chimpanzees playing, and her eyes widen as she hears the lion roar but most of all, he’s in awe as she watches her skip towards the hippopotamus enclosure, and he doesn’t miss the way her breath catches in her throat as she watches the animals in front of her.

He doesn’t mind standing there, watching the same animal for the last two hours of their visit, because this is the first time he’s truly seen her happy.

 

She’s eighteen and it’s been seven months and twelve days since she’s been clean of Montparnasse, as she likes to tell everyone. They had a few hiccups at the beginning, she went back to him twice but they don’t count that because everyone makes mistakes, he tells her kindly.

She’s eighteen and he’s twenty and he doesn’t want to pressure her into anything. She’s eighteen and he’s twenty and of course he would love to have more than what they currently had, but he’s content to watch her be happy and free for the first time since she was a child.

She’s eighteen and it’s now been eight months exactly since she broke up with Montparnasse, and exactly two years to the day since she met Enjolras.

It’s been two years and she’s been avoiding the bridge for far too long when she takes Enjolras on a walk. He’s not sure where they’re going but she insisted they take a picnic. He tried to tell her it’s too cold to take a picnic and perhaps today they should go somewhere indoors, like the cinema, but she adamant that they have to go on a walk. He follows her anyway.

She’s eighteen and for the first time, she’s in charge of her life. She marches him down the road despite his confusion and leads him to the bridge that she once stood on. She turns to face him and watches the realisation cloud his eyes as he looks at the exact spot where he first saw her.

She lays the picnic blanket down on the ground as he watches in silence and places the old wicker basket which they borrowed from his parents down on it.

They both sit numbly side by side as the realisation hits them both at the same time. If it wasn’t for him she wouldn’t be here. If he hadn’t been walking past at that exact moment, she would have gone crashing down into the water without remembering what happiness was.

She’s eighteen when she kisses him for the first time. It’s messy and passionate but neither of them protest.

 

* * *

  **VII.** _At nineteen I realise your hands are meant for mine._

 

She’s nineteen and she’s knocking back whiskey like its water.

They’re sat in the Musain and it’s quiet for once. They’re sat alone at the bar and he’s still nursing his first beer whilst she orders her fourth glass. He tells her to slow down but she doesn’t listen. It’s been five months since they first kiss and neither of them have spoken about it.

It’s autumn and it’s cold outside and the fire is burning in the corner of the room, warming their frozen hands. She slams down her glass and the barmaid gives her an annoyed look as she demands another glass. He’s finally finished his first.

He waits until she drains the glass within a couple of minutes before he stands and slips some money towards the barmaid, along with a little extra. He helps Eponine into her coat and wraps his scarf carefully around her neck, tying it around her throat to keep her warm. She’s nineteen and the alcohol is buzzing through her veins and her hands can’t keep up with her mind. She tries to help but it’d be easier if she didn’t.

Her arm is linked through his, and she’s leaning in closer to his warmth as he leads her outside. Her cheeks are red and so is her nose, her feet stumble every few steps but he’s holding her up as he leads her back towards _their_ apartment. She’s nineteen and for past few months she’s been sleeping on his sofa, refusing to take his bed instead. He doesn’t tell her but he’s been looking at two bedroom apartments since the very first night.

She’s smiling as she watches the leaves fall from the trees and suddenly she’s letting go of him. She grabs hold of his hand, pulling him with her as she runs across the road without a care. He holds her back long enough to look both ways before allowing her to carry on moving.

She’s nineteen and she’s laughing as she runs straight into the pile of leaves that someone had formed earlier that day. She throws her head back as she spins on the spot with her arms out, letting the leaves fall on her. They’re tangled in her hair and as she spins faster she looks like a fire and she is. She’s a fire burning bright in the darkness, and no one can control her.

She’s nineteen and she’s beautiful.

She’s nineteen and he can’t stop himself.

She stumbles as she comes to a stop, the alcohol pulling her feet from under her and she’s sure she’s about to land in a heap but suddenly there are strong hands on her waist, lifting her feet off the ground. She throws her arms out and her head back, closing her eyes and announces to the world that she’s flying.

He grins as he watches her, carefully turning around on the spot as she laughs. She’s beautiful and he’d do anything to make her smile.

He brings her feet back down to the ground but keeps his hands on her waist. She’s staring into his beautiful blue eyes and he’s doing the same, only he sees the warmest brown. Their lips meet just like the first time and it’s just as clumsy but just as good.

She’s nineteen and she wants to be his.

She’s nineteen when she takes his hand and whispers in his ear that she’ll never be anyone elses.

 

* * *

  **VIII.** _At twenty two I realise we fight because we care._

 

At twenty two she feels things she’s never felt for anyone else before, not even Montparnasse.

She’s twenty two now and life is good. She’s learned to love herself again. When she looks in the mirror she doesn’t see the bitter twisted girl she once was, but the woman that she’s become because of him.

At twenty two she’s happy and surrounded by friends who she can call family. At twenty two she’s got a job at a café just down the road and it isn’t much but it’s much more than she could ever have dreamed of.

At twenty two her life is perfect and she can’t wait to live.

But now she’s twenty two, almost twenty three and it’s not the first time they’ve had a fight. She’s twenty two and the bills are high and they can’t afford the apartment they’re living in. They’re both working hard but it’s just not enough, there aren’t enough hours at the cafe and Eponine is taking night classes so she can’t get a second job. Enjolras is working every hour under the sun as a lawyer, but he’s getting less cases every day and the bills keep going up.

They’re stood in the middle of the living room, dinner is burning in the kitchen behind them and the television is blaring but it’s drowned out by their voices. It’s Eponine who shouts first, but Enjolras who started the argument. He mentions the bills and money, she offers to take another job and he tells her no. He loves her too much to watch her waste her potential. He loves her too much and she knows it but she’s stubborn.

She shouts until her voice is hoarse and she can feel tears in her eyes. She’s shouts until all she feels running through her veins is pure passion and adrenaline, and it’s making her body hum. She shouts not because she’s angry but because she loves him and it’s how her family showed love. She shouts until it’s almost morning and she can see that Enjolras is tired but he’s giving his best and she has to have the last word.

She shouts until she finally cracks and his arms around her. She tries to shout but it comes out only a whisper. He’s whispering back but to her it feels like he’s shouting to the world. He tells her that he loves her, that everything will work out. She tells him that she loves him too and that she wants to go to bed.

They collapse together on the bed. It’s amazing that the neighbours didn’t call the police to split them up. They’re two passionate beings, too wrapped up in each other. They light a fire in one another which no one else can, and only they can put it out.

They don’t sleep much that night, instead they ride out the rest of their passion that made them buzz until it’s already light and Enjolras has to ring in sick for the both of them.

 She’s twenty two and she doesn’t shout because she’s angry, she shouts because it’s the only way she knows how to show that she cares.

 

* * *

  **IX.** _At twenty three I hope you know it’s not because of you._

 

At twenty three the darkness closed in.

She’s twenty three now and it’s been so long. She’s twenty three and for the past five years they’ve stuffed her full of drugs and numbed the darkness, caging it away in the back of her mind. She knew one day it’d break free from its restraints. She knew one day it would come running back into her life, forcing its way past the barriers of happiness she had put up.

She’s twenty three and for the past five months she was his fiancée. She has so much ahead of her and she can’t wait to make new memories. She’s twenty three and she feels like she’s soaring and she knows he is definitely her wings.

She’s already seen Cosette and Marius get married. She remembers the day that Musichetta announced that she was pregnant with twins and they sat sipping coffee whilst Eponine was on her break. She remembers these things but at the edges of the memories they’re faded and ripped.

She’s twenty three and she can feels it creeping back into her life. Its wispy limbs have slid under the barriers that she had built in her mind with the help of her friends. It’s tapped away at each brick of happiness, pushing it out of place until it could slid through unnoticed.

It’s already wrapped itself around her brain, warping every thought that managed to make it’s way through the hazy smoke that filled every space inside of her.

She twenty three and every day she sees less happiness. Some days the darkness holds her down to the bed and refuses to let her leave, and other days it reaches out towards Enjolras and threatens to choke him as well.

She’s twenty three when he notices something is wrong and Enjolras holds her hand as they sit in the Doctors office and new medication is pushed towards her, and the number for a psychiatrist is slipped towards Enjolras.

He’s twenty three and she wont let him in. She’s twenty three and the darkness is poisoning her mind slowly, turning her against the man that she loved. She’s twenty three and it’s whispering to her that he can’t truly love her. It’s chanting the words over and over, a little mantra that only she and it can hear.

At the dead of night it crawls out of her throat and sits on her chest. It’s testing her, seeing if it can slowly suffocate her without him noticing. It’s twenty three as well and the darkness is cunning. It knows when he isn’t watching and it knows it can outsmart him.

She’s twenty three when it’s finally wrapped itself around every vein in her body, turning her blood to lead. She’s twenty three when it takes her hand and leads her into the bathroom before filling the bath with water. It’s twenty three when it places the pills in one hand, and the razor in her other and pushes her down into the water.

She’s twenty three and she should have left him a note. She’s twenty three and she’s already said goodbye with an ‘I love you’ and a kiss that lasted a few seconds too long. She can see it in his eyes when he leaves the door, pausing to look at her for a few seconds too long. And she knows he’ll be sat at his desk, staring at the clock as the seconds tick by, knowing there’s something off about today.

She twenty three and the pills are hard to swallow. The darkness has crept outside of her now, and it’s lounging in the bath in front of her. It’s peeled the razor out of her hand and it’s digging into her skin. The darkness is outside her now and her minds screaming for her to fight it.

She’s twenty three and she regrets it all. She’s twenty three and she mourns for Enjolras who will find her here, and she mourns for the children she’ll never hold. She mourns for Musichettas twins who will never meet their godmother and her sister who never got to say goodbye.

Finally, she mourns for herself and the little girl she once was with her large brown eyes and little doll. She mourns for the little girl who could never fully love. For the five year old who wanted nothing more than to be happy, only to be corrupted and stuffed with so much darkness that she had to finally let it out.

She’s twenty three when he finds her in the bath.

 

* * *

  **X.**   _At the twenty three before I died, you were my last thought. My eternal thought._

 

At twenty three he hadn’t found her yet, but that didn’t matter.

She’s twenty three and the water is cold and red. She’s twenty three and the metallic stench is filling her lungs but for once, at least it isn’t darkness.

She tries to keep her head above the water but she’s slipping now. She cold and numb but it’s better than pain. It’s just how she imagined death.

Her lungs are screaming out for air and her hands are still holding onto the edge of the bathtub. She knows it wont be long now, she can’t keep holding on forever. The darkness has wrapped it’s arms around her, cradling her, blanketing her but it doesn’t try to suffocate her anymore.

The darkness that poisoned her for so long was the only thing soothing her now. It whispers in her ear that it wont be long. It tells her that It’ll all be over soon and she did the right thing.

It strokes her hair away from her clammy forehead and kisses her temple and she smiles, letting her head fall back against the cold porcelain. She remembers all the nights that she took for granted, the nights that she had never really remembered.

She remembers now the smell of his cologne as he pulls at the knot in his tie with just one finger. She watches as he combs his fingers through his hair, forcing it into messy curls upon his head. She can feel the dip of the bed as he sheds his jacket and the warmth of his lips against hers as he asks how her day was.

She misses the warmth of his arms as he wraps them around her and pulls her flush against his chest. She misses the way he stares into her eyes for a few moments more than necessary, and the way his fingers trace her collarbone. She misses his voice next to her ear and mostly, she misses his lips against her temple as they lay down together, embracing each other as one.

Her heart is aching as she thinks of the later. For so long they have been one, and now she would have to wait until the day he finds her again. She yearns for one last night of it being just them before she has to leave, but she knows that this is her time. She doesn’t have a choice.

Her head is slipping under the water, drawing the last breath out of her lungs, forming one single name, pulling it from her very core.

At twenty three she breaths her last word.

  _Enjolras._

 

* * *

  **XI.** _You’re twenty five and you’re sat at your desk when you feel it._

 

At twenty five it's his turn for the world to shatter.

He’s twenty five and his fingers are tapping delicately at the keyboard when he stops and his heart goes cold. He’s twenty five when he feels a part of him leave. And he’s still twenty five when he pulls her out of the water and screams for help.

He's twenty five when he says goodbye and sits at the front of the church. He listens as his friends talk about the happy girl they once knew, but only he knows about the unhappy girl she once was. He watches as the coffin is lowered into the ground and he puts on a fake smile as he thanks everyone for coming.

He's twenty five when he avoids going home to their empty apartment after work. Instead he goes straight to the Musain and knocks back whiskey.  When he wakes in the morning and turns to kiss her cheek and he's twenty five when it it finally hits him that she's gone and she's never coming back.

He’s twenty five when the darkness slips unnoticed into his mind and pulls him back towards her.

 

* * *

  **XII.** _And you’re twenty six when we meet again and I promise I will never leave you._

 


End file.
